Emil

(during a videotaped interview, in which he explains how the other kids in the street killed his dog)

Caught in a black video-tape
Your eyes flutter, embarrassed.
Startled to life by the camera, an old
Pain gathers gingerly on your brow,
Weighs down your glance.

You sit quietly, looking down.
A poppy-seed of a boy with a horizon
Of sorrow in the pocket. It’s not for sharing,
You seem to say, but unfold it
In the palm, gently, for a second.

If you look up, the world behind the lens
Will drown, the planet
Will gasp with ages of grief, unfit
To stand in your shoes for a minute,
Unable to breathe with a punctured soul.

A small twitch at the corner of the lips,
A tiny tremor of the chin,
Announces an earthquake, an internal
Bleeding, a battle to contain the blast
And a question

Will you forgive us?